


Soft things

by Zombieheroine



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Aftercare, Bittersweet, Enemy Lovers, M/M, Regret, Secret Relationship, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 18:18:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11903484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombieheroine/pseuds/Zombieheroine
Summary: United against the Quintesson threat, Optimus and Megatron are sometimes able to catch a private moment for themselves.





	Soft things

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for a prompt I got on Tumblr: "Aftercare. Preferably with Megatron receiving the care".
> 
> Quintessons are a very flimsy plot device here because I needed a BS setting for this. Sad hugs ahead.

The temporary and very loose Autobot-Decepticon alliance against the Quintesson threat kept both Optimus and Megatron very busy, but occasionally they had a chance to actually meet in person, and even more rarely than that they could catch a moment alone. 

The deep space between the galaxies was empty and dark and offered very little excitement, something that was a welcome change for a battered warship carrying battle-worn soldiers in need of rest. Energy aboard ran low, the ship drifted under any radars, and for the first time in a long while it was quiet. They were in a space that belonged to no one. 

Optimus had already compromised on a lot of things and put his trust on those decisions, so far with good results: Everyone was fighting aligned on one front, whether it was out of Cybertronian pride and the deep-seated hatred for the slavers, a pure wish to protect a vulnerable world of sentient beings, or a mixture of both. The Autobot-Decepticon grudge had been put on hold, and on top of all that Optimus couldn't really bother himself about allowing himself these few and far between moments with someone he had loved once. 

Megatron naturally had no reservations about the arrangement they had fallen into, and Optimus dared to even trust his intentions being honest since he had kept as quiet about it as he had.

It was quiet now, but in a heavy sort of way like when you were waiting for something grand and horrible and the world around was taking a deep invent. But Optimus couldn't bring himself to worry about that now, he had decided to enjoy this private moment he had managed to seize, and so he let go of the plans and threats and walked from the wash-rack back to the cabin. 

Megatron was still laying in the berth on his front with his helm resting on his folded arms. He was radiating low charge and a more passive EM field than regularly, which wasn't unusual after their trysts. Optimus hadn't had many lovers, but he could still confidently say that what he and Megatron had was set apart from the usual love affairs. They were too intense and too forceful to actually fit that category, and how they took each other could hardly be called love-making even on the better occasions. It was like they had been fighting for so long that any other kind of touch was now alien and they didn't know how else to approach the other.

Sometimes Megatron recoiled after this trysts, his EM field turning inwards and the mech himself sinking deep in thought and turning a cold shoulder to Optimus, and 'sometimes' being more often than not. 

Optimus leaned on the doorway for a moment and studied his partner. His frame was still aching after their tumble in the sheets, and he could tell from experience that it would ache tomorrow still just like after a harsh battle. The familiarity of the pain drew the line between love and what they had even clearer. 

It was colder now when the passion had been drained, and it was becoming even colder. Touching someone felt good, especially someone he had such deep regrets about and whom he missed so dearly, but when it turned into this afterwards it made Optimus question the sanity of these meetings and feel a cold throb in his spark. 

It was the cold that chased him off the doorway and back to berth, where he climbed slowly as if approaching a wounded beast. He lay down on his side next to Megatron and searched for optic contact, but Megatron was all hard angles and rejection now, tightly inside his armour and dead quiet. 

Optimus sighed and gave up, letting his helm thump against the padding. The narrow space between them felt like a rift, something cold and deep that was setting them apart and growing bigger by every klik they spent in silence, and finally Optimus couldn't take it or the cold throbbing of his spark anymore but reached over the rift with his servo. 

Megatron's frame was still hot to touch, the chill coming only from his EM field that was refusing connection. Maybe he had been touched too much, maybe he hadn't been touched enough, or maybe it was just the confusion coming from his battle protocols that weren't satisfied with interfacing, no matter how rough. Optimus let his palm rest on his armour and slowly rubbed his digits back and forth where they happened to be. The slow, almost questioning nudging turned into a gentle stroking, his digits smoothing across the thick armour plate, unsure if it felt like anything at all but still there. Optimus knew his servo was a noticeable weigh, the heel of his palm rubbing at the other's back as his digits stroked, his arm measuring the rift between them and turning it back into a narrow gap in sheets. 

With his palm grounding him there it was easy to inch closer still, it was only inches after all. The first move was the hardest and it had already been made, and Megatron didn't shift further away or push him back when Optimus ran his servo further along his back, crooking his arm and carefully crawling closer until his chassis was against his flank and his arm more around him than just resting on him. 

Optimus let his arm be as heavy as it was and his palm stroke the other mech from the back of his neck down his flank. Megatron's frame was too massive for even a mech of Optimus' size to really wrap in his arms, but this wasn't about gathering him up or overpowering him, this was about simply touching him and being here next to him, stable and welcoming and gentle. Caressing the other like something he loved made that cold thing in his spark melt and give way to a warmer feeling, and when the warmth bloomed deep inside his chassis Optimus felt his own frame release the tension he hadn't even known it held, and he could let himself mold against Megatron's side. 

Optimus pressed his helm crest against Megatron's shoulder, lifted his leg over the one closer to him and ran his servo across his back, rubbing soothing, warming shapes across the amour, the sharp angles, and down the dale of the spinal strut. There were thinner plates under the heavy armour and Optimus dared to run his servo over those too, wandering lower down Megatron's back and touching the softer curves and the casing over the spinal strut, feeling the thrum of the other mech's core and the charge running through him as a slight tingling in his palm, and feeling happy about the other being alive. 

Letting his optics flicker offline Optimus curled around Megatron, pulling him closer and coaxing him to relax against him. His spark felt warm again, the cold streak gone and only liquid warmth remaining, pulsing through him and hopefully radiating to the other beside him. Optimus let his mind drift again while he covered the other in slow, heavy caresses, thinking about nothing again, just opening his EM field to a connection and focusing on the temperatures of their frames regulating and finally settling on the same level. It was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began, and it would have been so easy to think that this would last. That this love wasn't lost, that it was still here between them, shared and alive. Optimus chose to believe it for now and give this to Megatron as if he was someone he truly loved. 

Finally Megatron let out a deep sigh and he shifted, not to leave the embrace but to relax and come back from whatever depths of his mind he had sank into. He turned towards Optimus a bit and let himself be held, still silent but no longer cold. 

“I've had very few soft things in my life,” Megatron grunted quietly. 

Optimus hummed, resting the side of his face against Megatron's arm and reached to caress the back of his neck. “I know.” 

Megatron sighed again. He didn't reach over or return the embrace, but just remaining here, calm and relaxed almost in a trusting manner was a gesture in itself. 

“You feel warm again,” Optimus commented. 

“I'm a living thing,” came the reply.

“So you are,” Optimus said. “Welcome back to me.” 

“For now.”

“We both know we'll take that.”


End file.
